


Second Son, Second Chance

by wittyoneliners



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Episode: s06e10 The Winds of Winter, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittyoneliners/pseuds/wittyoneliners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daario's thoughts after "Winds of Winter" and his actions afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Son, Second Chance

Daenerys was the sun, warming his skin and giving him light but warm enough to burn if exposed long enough. But for him, there would never be long enough. Despite not wishing it to be true he knew there would come a day when he, a simple sellsword turned royal advisor and commander, could not measure up to the duties of a life of royalty and nobility, but still, her words dismissing him from her side had been a shock.

He told her once that he only had two talents; war and women. Her dismissal of him stung not only his pride in his tactics and charm but deeply wounded his heart. Daario was a passionate and prideful man, he fought bravely and loved deeply. At first, it was inspired by her beauty and views so similar to his own, he thought of them as two halves to a whole. She was his sun, the light to his dark, she gave him something to fight for, even die for if need be. And now she told him that he was no longer needed at her side, but was to be left behind. His heart was hers, either she took it and him with her or she would leave him behind without any heart to speak of. Even now each beat sounded like a war drum in his ears, the sound swallowing the hitch in his breathing. Daario slammed his hand down upon the table, leaving wine and trinkets scattered across the floor, the pain reverberated in his hand as all sound faded from the room. 

_"The Second Sons are yours, and so is Daario Naharis. My sword is yours. My life is yours. My heart is yours."_

The words said long ago, their echo mocking him in his silence.  
He was still hers but he may as well belong to Meereen, her command to leave him and his company behind, no matter how noble-sounding the goal, was a bitter blow. 

He cared not if she was queen or servant, his heart and sword belonged to her, could she not see that he cared for her and her alone? Not her titles or treaties, not her claims or ambitions, not even her dragons could drag him from her side. But here he was, away from her side, at her own command. He pitied Jorah even more in this moment, the old knight would be chuckling at him now surely, both of them falling from favor yet still undeniably in love with the young Queen.

Well, fuck that. Fuck Westeros. Fuck the gods. Fuck what the ignoble nobles thought of his relationship with their Queen. She was to leave in the morning, if this was to be the last they would see of each other then it was to be his last chance to change her mind. His decision made, he strode to her chambers intent on changing her mind.  
If Daario knew one thing, he was a born fighter and he'd fight for his heart until his last breath.

**Author's Note:**

> To Be Continued


End file.
